Robert Burns

Bonnie Peg

As I came in by our gate end,
  When day was waxin’ weary,
O wha came tripping down the street,
  But bonnie Peg, my dearie!

Her air sae sweet, and shape complete,
  Wi’ nae proportion wanting,
The Queen of Love did never move
  Wi’ motion main enchanting.

Wi’ linked hands, we took the sands
  Adown yon winding river;
And, oh! that hour and broomy bower,
  Can I forget it ever?